


5+1 Relationship goals

by KiN_99



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 5+1 Things, America being America (Hetalia), And Germany took that personally, Angst and Feels, Awkward Germany (Hetalia), Brothers Germany & Prussia (Hetalia), Brothers North Italy & South Italy (Hetalia), Canada exists yall, Confused Japan (Hetalia), Country names only, Creepy Russia (Hetalia), Cute North Italy (Hetalia), Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, England Needs Tea (Hetalia), England does magic, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, France Being France (Hetalia), France and England act like children, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Germany is boyfriend material, Germany is clueless about feelings, Germany is the reincarnation of Holy Roman Empire, Germanycat, He would die for Italy, Hugs, Human names not used, Italy has nightmares, Italycat, M/M, Mentioned Austria (Hetalia), Mentioned Holy Roman Empire (Hetalia), Protective Romano, SO MUCH FLUFF, Slow Burn, Some humour, Yearning, beer is a bad copying mechanism, but he has no idea, prank gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-22 20:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30043971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiN_99/pseuds/KiN_99
Summary: 5 times Germany realised he had a boyfriend and one time Italy moved on from the past and returned the favour. Fluffy filled one-shots (I personally recommend you read them in order, all together they make a compact storyline I swear).~ Summary of chapters~1. You are not alone, the war is over  (Published)2. Don't starve (Published)3. Stealing is wrong (Published)4. Like a toy soldier (Published)5. I need a raise (Published)+1  Flu season (Published)
Relationships: Germany/North Italy (Hetalia)
Kudos: 22





	1. Author notes

Heya! 

I took a small break and now I'm yeeting myself into a brand new fandom! (The word Yeet is canon in the dictionary, change my mind) and I will focus on my favourite closeted couple in the world of Hetalia! Whoo!

Like always, this "first chapter" is **Author notes** and I do this to save my work and state some rules, like in every fic that I write.

1\. **No NSFW** and I keep swearing to a **minimum**. I like fluffy things and playing with people's feels.

2\. English is not my first language, expect typos

3\. In every chapter there will be notes that explain what happens (without spoilers of course)

4\. I recommend to read them in chronological order but they are also good to read by themselves. They are called "One-shots" for a reason 

5\. I love to read comments and feedback. :)

That's it for now. First chapter coming soon!


	2. You are not alone, the war is over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Italy has not moved on from the past and fears the worst happened to Holy Roman Empire so he seeks help to the closest comfort he knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropes: Nightmares and sharing a bed

**2:15 AM**

It started storming earlier in the night. At first the pitter patter of the raindrops against the window was very relaxing, but as the wind blew and the trees swayed, Italy became more uncomfortable in his sleep. His dream became a nightmare when the storm became so bad that thunder crashed, flashes of white lightened Italy's messy room and his sweat-covered face. He shook in his sleep. Italy was not scared of thunderstorms, but these twisted his dreams in the worst way possible.

Italy was having a nice dream about Holy Roman Empire, but it was suddenly disturbed by the sounds of war that the chibi Holy Roman Empire ran off to, leaving Italy alone and clutching the rims of the maid-dress that he wore inside the dream. Italy begged him to go, yet he did and promised to come back alive but the feeling of dread stayed there. Italy did not like war or fighting for this very reason, if he could he would've waved a white flag to stop this but he was petrified. Bombs exploded left and right, grenades, gunshots flaring... For some reason, inside the dream Italy followed Holy Roman Empire into the war as a ghost or a guardian angel, so he wasn't physically there yet he could see him fighting among soldiers, evading bullets...well...maybe not all the bullets, one grazed his face and the other hit him right in the shoulder.

If watching Holy Roman Empire get shot twice wasn't enough trauma to wake up from this nightmare, he did so when a bomb exploded and a very familiar scream went with it. When the smoke cleared, Holy Roman Empire was dead. He would not come back ever agai-

"-AAAAAH!!-" Italy screamed and pulled the blankets away because he was sweating, but cold sweating, which is why he remained shaking like a baby bird. He panted to calm down but it wasn't doing much to help with anxiety, he could not take away that image out of his head. He was alone, his room felt too big for him, there was too much space for his fears to fill the void.

There is no way he was going back to sleep like this, so he stood up from his bed, leaving the sheets a mess, and walked towards his brother's room but his hand froze before he could grasp the doorknob. He could hear his brother snoring peacefully from here, storms were usually music to south ears and he didn't want to act like a child.

 _"- I don't want to bother Romano.-"_ He thought with a kind, gentle smile on his expression, yet his eyes remained sad and glassed like those of a kicked puppy. His hair was a mess too. Nightmares like these started when he was still living in Austria's home, and he usually could calm himself down by singing or humming to himself, but now that doesn't work as well. 

He wondered why. When has this started spiralling out of his control? 

His fingers tenderly left the metallic doorknob and he simply stood before the closed door, shaking. How could he ease this feeling of dread that was slowly consuming him? If he didn't sleep, he would look like a zombie in the meeting tomorrow and Germany hates it when he...

 _"- Wait a minute, I can go to Germany's house!-"_ He thought to himself. Just thinking about Germany brought a big smile to his face, he loves his company! Since he met Germany, that strange void inside him has been successfully filled up and Italy is unaware if that is because they look alike or something else, but he prefers to try going to him for help rather than stay in his room humming and possibly crying himself until morning comes. 

**3:45 AM**

It still stormed outside, not as strongly, but the wind made everything sound worse than it was. The thunder crashed, and Germany was sleeping peacefully through it all. He was dreaming about having a picnic at the park, his sleeping expression had this soft aura that screamed "you are safe with me" to Italy's eyes.

Suddenly, a dark hooded figure stood outside Germany's bedroom window and tapped on the glass, but because the rain had been tapping all night, Germany didn't notice the slight change. He was inside a deep, peaceful sleep, but the more Italy tapped the more he awakened. 

Germany turned in his sleep. 

"-Vee...open the window...please.-" Italy murmured from outside. He refused to let himself inside Germany's house without permission, but it better to be safe than sorry and lonely.

Germany woke up in a flash. Did he just hear Italy, or was it a cat meowing? He could've been dreaming, but that sounded too real and he's awake now. Could it be a burglar?

He rubbed his blue eyes that always remind Italy of the sky in a hot summer day, and he dared to turn around and look out his window. When he saw the dark figure of Italy standing outside, getting wet in the storm, he screamed and swore loudly. If he were human, that sight would've probably given him a heart attack. At least Italy was sensible enough to wear a raincoat, if he had been standing outside half-nude...Germany did not even want to think about to react to something like that, his emotions are quite limited.

He stood up from his bed and ran towards the window, mumbling angrily,he unlocked it from the inside and opened it in a flash. Italy's smile got wider the closer he got.

"- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE ITA-!?-"

His scolding was stopped when he opened the window and the first thing Italy did was embrace him, but rather than a hug it was more like clinging to him for his dear life. Not a salute, not an apology, just a hug that was so strong Germany nearly fell out from his very own window for being pulled by the neck. The wet and cold raincoat wasn't pleasant against his warm, dry skin, or his blond hair that was a matted mess. Raindrops washed his face, Italy's warm face was also wet but he knows that wasn't rain, his hands shook so much it was hard to believe how he could cling onto him that strongly.

Italy was _crying_. For how long had he been holding this? Why was he like this? Too many questions that make up the mysteries of Italy. One thing that is not a mystery though is his separation issues. Since they met, Germany has been smart and kind enough to notice the signs and realise that anxiety peaks inside Italy when they are far apart, the farther they are the worse it gets. He caught Italy humming to himself a couple of times when he went out to do some training or do errands, but his expression didn't seem to be enjoying the singing he made, it was more like a copying mechanism, and like all copying mechanisms, it was saddening to see him like that. When Italy was alone for long periods of time his motions seemed sluggish and robotic, as if his mind were somewhere else lost in the world of daydreams to avoid reality. So aloof and childish, so needy...yet so painful to watch.

To this day, Italy remained a mystery to Germany.

"- I'm so happy to see you! I missed you so, _so, so much_ Germany.-" Italy exclaimed, and let go of his neck upon seeing him struggling to keep himself upright. Italy sniffed and dried away his eyes before Germany could look at him in the eyes, the fact that it was dark could be used at his advantage.

When Germany regained his composure, he looked at Italy in the eyes and softened. 

"- Did anything happen?-" He asked. Italy twiddled with his fingers.

"- No! I'm just very happy to see you! Can I stay here tonight?-"

Ah. Always so straightforward. As much as he hates to admit it, Germany enjoys that bold honesty, he couldn't avoid shooting him a small smile as he nodded.

"- Meet me at the front door, you can take your shoes off at the entrance.-"

Italy beamed and without saying another word, he ran for his dear life to the front door while Germany closed the window with a sigh and headed outside his room. Instead of going straight to the front door, first he took a quick turn to the bathroom and grabbed the softest towel he owes, he kept it in his arm like a waiter.

When he opened the front door, Italy came in and took away his sandals and raincoat, while he did so, he tried some small talk. "- The storm is so strong today!-" He exclaimed, but Germany was still a bit groggy so he only hummed. Small talk is not ideal, but it's especially unwelcome at 4:10 AM

"- I didn't know you were scared of thunderstorms.-" He mumbled, waiting for Italy to hang the raincoat in the hanger to follow with the next step. Despite being disoriented, Germany already had a plan in mind and he was willing to follow it word by word.

Before Italy could answer, Germany took the towel and started drying his hair in tender motions. Italy did not move, only a couple of seconds passed in silence.

"- They sound like bombs...-" The muffled voice of Italy came from within the cotton towel, and Germany froze.

"- Bombs?-"

"- And the rain sounds like bullets.-" Italy followed. His hands were freezing and shook, but not because he was cold or wet. He was scared.

How strange. Italy, having nightmares about war? But he's never been in a proper one, at least not as much as Germany has. What got him so rattled then?

Before he could ask anything else, Germany decided not to overflow him with questions, given the fact that he's on the verge of crying and probably doesn't wish to talk about it. War is not a topic he is very comfortable speaking of either, especially not at this hour, so he waited in silence and kept drying Italy's hair in case he continued to open up but the Italian did not say another word other than a tiny "thank you" as he took the towel and finished drying himself. He only wore a pair of shorts, no wonder he was shivering so much!

Germany cleared his throat. "- Do you...want something to eat or drink?-" He asked, akwardly.

Italy yawned, and Germany soon followed on cue. What a stupid question that was. They are both tired and look exhausted, formalities are off the table here. Although something warm would do him good, Italy nodded. He didn't want to bother too much but it was weird to act like a guest when he was very definitely going to cross the line.

"- Can I sleep with you?-"

 _"-I feel safer when I'm with you.-"_ Is what he wanted to say, but he didn't want Germany to get the wrong image. The latter already blushed bright red by that question alone, no need to empathise the basics if this isn't the first time they sleep on the same bed. Again, that bold honesty and that cute little face just played with Germany's heartstrings. He sighed, loudly, and rubbed his eyes.

"- Are you going to make this a habit?-" He asked as Italy gave him his towel back and stepped past the entrance. Italy froze, he bit the inside of his cheek and his insides twisted. His face grew warmer. Oh, that's something new. Germany usually never declines, but this is the closest he's been to saying "go back and leave me be" to Italy's ears.

"- I can leave if you want...I don't want to bother you.-" Italy replied, crestfallen, and didn't realise how hard it was to smile at Germany until he saw him freeze and deflate before kneeling down to his eye-level. How broken must he look for Germany to do that? Italy was honestly surprised, he looked like a knight in shiny armour, but with a white tank top and pyjama pants instead of an actual armour. 

"- You _never_ bother me.-" He stated right on his face, clearly and honestly. A slight blush painted his pale cheeks, he meant what he said literally but Italy took it differently. As Italy got lost inside those blue orbs for eyes, he took those words as open doors that welcomed him to be with him as much as he felt comfortable. 

Italy hugged him again, he smiled care freely with tears of happiness and relief overcrowding the sides of his eyes. Maybe one day he might open up about the nightmares about Holy Roman Empire to Germany, but for now, all he wanted was to sleep peacefully for the remainder of the night without any nightmares. Germany's company brought him inner ease, it calmed the storm. 

Italy was sleeping soundly after ten minutes so he didn't realise that he was still shaking, but Germany did. Although hugging Italy to share body-heat wasn't part of his mental list, he believed the smaller country was cold, or crying, or both! Because Italy wasn't facing him, Germany couldn't tell what exactly was going on, so he turned to face him and embraced him without regrets until he calmed. The peace ruled over every other negative feeling.

Needless to say, they both dreamed that they were having a nice picnic at the park.


	3. Don't starve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Germany has started a new diet and Italy forgot to bring his lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropes: Hugs and denying feelings (I'm looking at you Germany!)

Germany was excited because his new dietary plan had finally arrived through the mail, it had been only a week since he subscribed to that website that promised bigger muscles and a better figure if he followed their dietary plan, hell, he even paid a little bit extra to have that plan especially done for him.

No more training until late and drinking those bland and tasteless protein shakes! Germany decided he would eat better than ever and nobody would stop him. His older brother,Prussia, never saw him as happy as the day he received that dietary plan and went to the nearest market to buy the ingredients and make his own pack-lunches.

"- You are starting to act like a mutter.-" He exclaimed between chuckles _(mutter=mother)_

Germany was too busy rearranging and chopping vegetables to follow the childish bickering of Prussia, he had a cook book in his hand and a sharp knife in the other. Empty Tupperware ready to be filled sat before him. Prussia took a picture of him and left, laughing to himself. Now Spain and France would be on his tail, but Germany did not mind because he would look physically better than ever. 

*** The next day ***

Country meetings were a tricky thing. Sometimes they could last 2-3 hours and sometimes they could perfectly stay there all day until the sun had already set, simply discussing things.

Today is one of those days were a long meeting took place, and because of that, most countries decided to bring food for home to avoid driving over to the nearest fast-food place like America always did. Canada was a sensible one and he always took his lunch outside, to enjoy the fresh air, but other than those two the rest were present inside the building. A kitchen was also available in case reheating food was necessary, but there was hardly any fresh ingredients at all, it was mostly for show and also a nice place to take a break.

Italy realised a bit too late that he completely forgot today was "long meeting day" so he had nothing to eat when lunch-time came by, not even his wallet. He believed he could handle it but his stomach started growling and doing somersaults. Despite being countries their bodies are very human and it's necessary to eat and sleep among other things.

Now, he could always borrow money, but he didn't want to beg or "steal" food from anybody so he decided to walk around the building in order to find a water fountain that would fill up the void temporarily. China and Japan were chatting in a corner, both had their "bentos" and ate very neatly with chopsticks, Italy softened at the sight. France brought his lunch in a plate and an entire bottle of red wine to go with it, glass and all. Italy nearly chuckled because he still kept his classy composure as if he were in a fancy restaurant with all the cutlery and sass. England decided to eat alone in far corner from a Styrofoam container with one of those single-use plastic utensils, he ate something that Italy couldn't recognise but it was better not to think about it too much, and Russia...well... he was eating his food happily from a very mysterious metallic thermo container. Maybe he could ask Russia for any leftovers?

That idea got snapped out of his head when Italy passed by him and his smile got creepy enough for Italy to start running down the corridor. Water fountain is it.

Italy bumped onto someone that apologised first before he did, and when Italy looked up he met eyes with the closest ally he's got, Germany, who had a bag in his hands that smelled great. Italy's stomach growled.

"- Italy? where are running off to?-" He exclaimed.

"- Oh! Hello Germany! I was going to drink from the water fountain down the corridor!-"

Germany took a couple of seconds to process that, and upon seeing the dark eyes under the Italian he could kind of guess what happened. Yesterday night he and his brother stood up late watching one of Spain's romantic dramas which means he woke up late this morning and forgot to pack any lunch or have breakfast if he didn't want to be late for the meeting.

"- You forgot to bring any food didn't you?-" He asked, and watched Italy place a hand behind his head. Water would only hold in him for a couple of hours, and he was planning on taking toilet breaks to keep refilling and emty-ing his stomach until 7pm? Unforgivable.

"- Vee... and my wallet.-" He mumbled. 

"- No money either?! How selfless can you get, Italy? This meetings ends at 7 and it's still mid-day! You can't starve yourself that long!-" 

Italy cowered under his scolding voice like a child. _"- I'm sorry Germany...-"_

Now, Germany had two options. Option number one: Let Italy starve and have his own consequences served to him cold or Option two: Share his lunch with him and to hell with his special dietary plan he's been working so hard for. As much as Germany hates breaking his plans, empathy and that adorableness radiating from Italy is hard to ignore. If he left Italy starve he would never forgive himself, he knows that.

He sighed. There was never a choice when Italy was involved.

"- Don't apologise. I think...I have an idea.-" He said, and watched Italy gleam at him with a big smile.

"- If you buy me food I will pay you back I promise!-"

Germany did not have his wallet on him either, he left it at home on purpose to avoid snacking while being under his very strict dietary plan, but now he started regretting it.

"- Wait in the common room, I won't take too long.-" He sighed, and Italy once again jumped to cling onto him. "- Thank you so much Germany! I _loove_ you!-"

Italy left and Germany stood there, flustered, he nearly dropped his bag on the floor. Germany believes he has told Italy a thousand times not to say those three magic words unless he really means it, but Italy never listens so he left it go, unless... he meant it.

No,no,no. Focus.FOCUS. 

Germany turned and quickly entered in the common kitchen, upon arrival he took out his Tupperware and started addressing what he had. His mind processed faster than his heart ever did, that's for sure.

He had two boiled potatoes with a small stick of butter in one side, and on the other a small salad with pieces of tomato and mozzarella cheese plus some pesto to dress it, and last but not least...an apple for dessert.

He smiled to himself. _"-I can make something out of this.-"_ He thought, and started scavenging the kitchen for supplies. He found a pan, a saucepan, flour, a bit of olive oil, Italy's favourite spice mix... now the only thing he needed was running water.  
England followed the delicious smell of food and caught Germany cooking in the common kitchen, he used the excuse that he was throwing his container and utensils away to come in but he could've never imagined a country as prepared as him would've forgot to cook before coming.

"- Are you whipping up some quick brunch?-" Asked the Englishman with an accent as thick as his eyebrows, he eyeballed at the pan and saucepan with curiosity. What was that?

"- It's not for myself.-" Was all Germany replied, he was busy following instructions from a Youtube tutorial to even look at England in the eye. He did not want to mess this up, he had only one chance at this.

He didn't say anything else so England left. Suspicious.

Italy's stomach growled, he placed his head against the table in defeat and closed his eyes to avoid exhaling a sigh. _"-Maybe I should not have bothered Germany so much.-"_ He thought, but soon that ugly thought was shoved away the smell of something very familiar that was placed before him on a plate, accompanied with the metallic clinking of a fork. Germany sat right in front of him with only an apple and small salad before him, the green leaves weren't even dressed and looked sad.

"- Gnocchi!-" Italy exclaimed, and practically vibrated on his seat. Before him was a plate of steaming, freshly made gnocchi with pesto dressing and pieces of mozzarella cheese and tomato. Germany looked quite proud of himself, although he had not much for him left and he too had skipped breakfast that morning because his dietary plan said "fasting in the mornings is recommendable"

Italy started inhaling the food, tears of happiness nearly flowed his eyes.

"- This is so good! Where did you buy it?-"

Germany froze as he munched the tasteless salad. Was it so good that Italy thought he bought it? The thought forced his cheeks to fluster.

"- I made it.-" He replied without second thought. Italy was left open-mouthed.

"- You _made_ it? For _me_?-"

Germany nodded. What followed afterwards were mumbles and words of endearment in Italian that he can barely remember, all he could feel were the butterflies filling up the gaps inside his stomach. He had no regrets.

"- Aren't you going to be hungry?-" 

"- I am following a dietary plan.-"

"- A diet? But you look great already!-"

"- What do you mean?-" 

Italy started counting his fingers. "- You are strong, and smart, and...-"

In less than five minutes, Italy convinced him he didn't need to improve himself. Germany forgot all about the dietary plan because Italy's words stuck harder than glue right on his ego, they melted the walls of ice around his heart too. If anything on his physique changed Italy would not mind, he had that clear, and maybe that is all that mattered. 

Italy mattered to him. A lot.

When he arrived home that night, Prussia caught him eating an entire rotisserie chicken all by himself in the kitchen. A couple of empty beer cans rested on the table too. 

_So much for keeping a dietary plan._ Prussia sighed and walked back to his room, he was very, very disappointed. Goodbye to editing pictures of his brother in a maid dress to steal Austria's money. 

As much Germany doesn't want to admit it, Italy saying "I _loove_ you" echoed on repeat at the back of his mind. He blamed the fluster and the butterflies on the alcohol. For being so small, the Italian had a very good grip every time he hugged him or clinged onto him, he is very fast too. If Germany had not heard his stomach growling, he would've never guessed Italy was starving. 

How strong is Italy? Should he follow his carbohydrate-full diet instead of a dietary plan? 

Germany didn't even want to think about it. It must be the alcohol doing it's magic. Yes, that's probably it.


	4. Stealing is wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Italy gets robbed and Germany is not happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used the translator on this chapter because the humans speak Italian.
> 
> The countries speak "country language" with one another so they can understand each other, but to human ears Germany sounds 100% German!

Germany and Italy walked together down the busy streets crowded with happy Italians. It was Saturday, a great day to rest from all that training and meetings to engage in a nice date gateway with his ~~boy~~ bestfriend. 

"- I'm so happy you came to visit my home Germany! I will be the best tourist guide so you don't miss on anything!-" Beamed Italy as happy as ever. He practically bounced with excitement next to Germany who started flustering but he blamed it on the direct sunlight.

"- You didn't have to...-" He mumbled, but was interrupted before he could even finish.

"- I did! You cooked for me the other day.-"

That is true, so Germany sighed and allowed himself to tour through the streets while Italy talked about everything, he pointed even at the smallest little things and he looked so content with himself that Germany smiled and nodded for courtesy, but the more he saw Italy as his true self, the less effort he had to put on his smile until it became a very natural thing. Yes, maybe feeling this way towards Italy had become a normal occurrence and he barely realised it. At one point, Italy nearly crossed the street when it was red and he had to grab his hand to stop him from being ran over by a car. Why he did that, he did not know.

It felt natural.

When they stopped to eat, Germany was so engrossed in the fact that all of this felt natural to him, that he wasn't even listening to a word Italy was saying about La Piazza San Marcos, his heart started beating out of place the more he thought about it, but it nearly stopped when he felt a hand touch his forehead.

"- Hey Germany...are you ok? You look flushed.-"

When he came back to, Italy was staring right at him with concerned puppy-eyes. Stress made him sweat even more, so he used that as an excuse

"- Maybe I should unbutton my shirt a bit, it's really hot here.-" He spattered, but refused to make any sort of eye contact. 

"- I have an idea! We can visit a museum, they have air conditioner in there.-" Italy suggested, and to be honest, Germany was a big fan of art and maybe that would distract him from everything he was feeling at the moment. His emotions were a mess that tied themselves in a loop and this summer heat wasn't helping much.

"- That would be nice.-" He sighed in relief, and both got up to head to their next destination but Germany noticed that Italy was a bit more quiet and less focused on his surroundings. Was he thinking of something too? Germany could never grasp was travelled through his mind until he felt a slight tug on his sleeve.

"- If you feel sick because it's too hot please tell me okay?-" 

Oh. Germany realised it was him the one Italy was thinking of. No,no,no that made things so much more difficult! While inside ~~gay panic~~ his thoughts, a shadow of a man with a hoodie passed by Italy's side quicker than ever, and not a second later he was gone, he used the opportunity that both were distracted. Italy timidly jump-scared and touched his back pocket, Germany's first thought is that someone had decided to grasp his ass and he would not condone that.

"- What was that?-" He demanded.

"- My wallet!-" Replied Italy.

"- A Pickpocketer?-" Germany thought as he turned around to see the far away figure of the hooded man running away as fast as he could. 

"- Stay here, I'll get it back.-" He ordered, and left his bags on the floor before he sprinted away. Italy was speechless. It's never a good idea to follow those kind of people, especially for a wallet that didn't have much money inside, but if it's Germany who we are talking about then there is no way he will give up.

Italy sighed and sat down in the nearest bench with his bags. He could only hope Germany would not get lost, they had so many plans...

Italians are pretty fast when they are running away from trouble. Germany knows that more than anybody, which is why he was not surprised that he lost track of the thug after running after him for a couple streets. Breathing heavily, Germany stopped and started to think, if he wanted to retrieve the wallet needed to _outsmart_ the thug, not _outrun_ him.

Luckily for him, there was a tourist shop and he imagined they sold maps, so he entered and went straight to the counter where, indeed, there were maps of all the streets and tourist attractions listed with prices and all. He quickly observed them all, took the one he needed, took out all the change he had in his pocket and left it on the counter before he left the shop with the map in hand. 

"-Aspettare! Le mappe sono gratuite per i turisti!-" Yelled the man behind the counter, but by the time he ran out of the shop with the coins in hand, Germany was already gone. _(He said: Wait there!The maps are free for tourists!)_

Now with the map in hand, Germany localised the street where he was and looked at all the smaller streets in the area, the suspicious ones, the ones that are connected to quiet places where a thug would hide...etc. If he wanted to find him, he had to think like him and catch him when he least expects it. Because the last time he saw the hooded thug, he turned left, all the mysterious streets in the right hand side were dismissed. 

"- I will find you. **I swear**.-" He motivated himself, and once again started running with the map in hand. 

Hours later he found him. Germany spotted that red hoodie surrounded by a puff of smoke that smelled like weed, in his hand he had Italy's wallet and he was looking at it's contents with an expression that told Germany the thug realised he just stole from the man that represents his pride and home. The wrong man indeed. Had this been a wallet from a regular man and he would be in less trouble, but no, he had to steal ITALY's wallet.

"-Cazzo, ora cosa ci faccio con questo?-" He mumbled to himself before attempting to inhale another puff of that cigar, but it wasn't lit anymore. _(He said: Crap, now what do I do with this?)_

Germany approached cautiously, he was exhausted from running left and right and he didn't want to start another chase, he only wanted the wallet, plain and simple. 

"- The wallet...give me the wallet back...-" He pleaded between laboured breathing when he got close enough, but the thug only got up defensively because he did not understand a word Germany said. Only to other country personifications, their natural languages don't sound like gibberish but citizens...humans...they are something else entirely. For the thug, Germany was a regular tourist, and he was freaked out by him honestly. The hooded man threw the cigar on the floor, forgotten.

"-Come mi hai trovato?! Cosa vuoi?!-" He exclaimed, at the verge of running off again. No. Germany couldn't allow him to do that, not again. _(He said: How did you find me? What do you want?)_

Because he's a country, Germany is _not_ allowed to hit citizens, _especially_ other countries citizens and _definitely not_ citizens from countries he's allied with, so Germany had to get creative and scare off the thug with gestures alone. Despite being exhausted, he was more angry than anything, now that he got so far he would not get out of here without that wallet so he puffed up his chest and closed his fists. The thug froze in fear.

"- Die brieftasche. Gib mir...bitte...die brieftasche.-" He ordered in a warning tone, still breathing heavily, and pointed at Italy's wallet that the thug still had on his hand. _(The wallet, give me the wallet please)_

The thug waved the wallet as if saying "is this what you want?" and Germany nodded.

The thug chuckled and turned around to start running again, but this time Germany got a hold of him and lifted him off the ground with a single hand. He was fuming, but he would not do violence. This would be his last warning before he walked over to the nearest police station while carrying the thug like a sack of potatoes. 

"- DIE BRIEFTASCHE!!-" He repeated. Louder. His voice echoed in the lonely passageway.

The thug started quivering and threw the wallet against the wall as he pleaded for his life in Italian. Exhaling an angry huff, Germany let go of him and allowed him to ran off. He had all that he needed right there, now, the only thing left to do was find Italy.

Wait a moment. Was it afternoon already? 

***

Italy sighed, he stared at his phone and back at the street then back at his phone again. Another shadow posed himself behind him, but this time it was a friendly one.

"- Hey.-"

Italy jumpscared, only until he saw South Italy his smile widened. "-Fratello!-" He exclaimed, relieved.

"- I got your texts.-" He said while sitting down on the bench next to him and placing his arm around his neck, Italy calmed down but he was still nervous about something, it's clear. The physical touch seemed to calm him enough.

"-Thank you for coming!-" Exclaimed North Italy, dangling his legs happily. The South realised the big luggage sitting on the floor and couldn't help but ask.

"- What is this?-"

"- Germany's bags.-"

"- Aaah so the potato bastard abandoned you? He did not get lost like you said?-"

North Italy hesitated, should he tell him the truth? Not even he knew where Germany went, he didn't know if he was lost or not because Germany left his phone inside one of these bags. He waited and waited, but one can only wait so much until separation anxiety occurs, which is why he called his brother to keep him company. Should he go and look for him? Too many questions.

"- I'm gonna kill him when I see him!-" Exclaimed South, fury in his eyes.

"- Please don't...-"

***

An hour later Germany came back and was welcomed by a very angry Italian that he mistook for North from far away, but he realised it was South when he started swearing and wishing him a very painful death for leaving his dear fratello alone for so long. Unlike North Italy, South wasn't so touchy, more like a barking chihuahua. North Italy had to calm him down and restrain him, but both Italians froze when instead of apologising, Germany took from his back pocket a wallet with shaky hands.

"- I got your wallet back.-" He exhaled, proudly, and smiled. He was clearly exhausted and it took him all afternoon but he found it. He outsmarted the thug by following the "trial and error" method so in the end he did more tourism than he had expected. He even memorised most of the streets. He was worried that the date day was ruined, but in the end, North Italy did not mind, all that he cared is that Germany was the best and he was here. He did not forget about him. He came back. The more he repeated that to himself the happier he felt.

North Italy practically jumped onto him, nearly throwing him to the ground in the process. 

"- Holy sh*t the bastard actually did it.-" Murmured South to himself with his arms crossed. Slightly impressed even.

***

"- Hey West! I heard from Spain you had to fight an Italian thug today! How was...-"

Prussia froze at the sight, he was ready to hear that juicy drama but stopped mid-sentence. Germany was sleeping on the couch with a map dangling from his back pocket, he still wore his street-clothes and the unpacked bags rested on the floor beside him. He looked peaceful.

Or better said: Peacefully exhausted.

Prussia softened and came closer in silence, in his tip toes to avoid making the slightest sounds. Germany's cheeks were flustered but that's because he was running under the sun practically all afternoon, although his brother did check if he was alright by touching his forehead, which caused Germany to stir in his sleep. 

"- My bruder is so awesome...-" Prussia thought to himself, and grinned proudly.

The next morning Germany woke up with a blanket over him. It was Sunday. Sunday is a Sabbatical day and he usually does nothing, not even tourism, so he turned around and continued sleeping. He could sort out his feelings for Italy tomorrow.


	5. Like a toy soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally we get to see other countries interacting! 
> 
> How will they react to seeing Germany's mask falter for Italy? It wasn't that obvious was it? Anybody would've done that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropes:Prank gone wrong and teeny tiny injury alert.
> 
> PS: I used the translator for this chapter so if there are mistakes I'm sorry, I don't speak french.

Everybody has a mask...a copying mechanism of some sorts. Despite being human, they are all countries, not toy soldiers without feelings. Some countries are harder to crack than others. _America_ and _Russia_ stand at that point but on opposite sides, one is independent, strong and wants to be a literal hero because he loves praise and attention, while the other has this strange aura that scares everybody within a five meter radius. When The Motherland smiles, nobody call tell what goes through his head but one thing is very clear: he doesn't smile because he's happy. Although both are always smiling, their emotions go deeper than that, they hold complex powers and both believe their ways are right, but if they have one thing in common is that neither cares for anybody but themselves. If any of the two were to crack, it would be catastrophic, but for now they keep each other sustainable. 

America try to will pose his shadow over everybody else, and Russia will attempt to pick up the pieces. 

Italy can keep a good mask too, for someone who doesn't know him he's always cheerful and aloof, on bad days Italy gives out tiny clues of the darkness that lays inside, but not even Germany has all the pieces to put-together in order to come to a proper conclusion. After all, during meetings, most of the countries can agree they haven't seen the other side of Germany, the one who isn't screaming orders to "organise" the masses. The human, soft side of him has been hidden from sight, it only shows slightly when he's hanging out with Prussia, while celebrating Oktoberfest, or when he's with...

 _North Italy_. Sweet, small, sometimes childish.

Germany couldn't get his head around him yet. Since the wallet incident, he's been rummaging for clues, details, something that could tell him what is the trigger for these emotions...but he's found none. None that he can remember at least.   
England and France share that very same problem, but instead of love it's...not hate exactly, but competition. Maybe they are fighting to know who is the better gentleman, or who can be more of a jerk to the other, who will give up first... the possibilities are endless. The air always tenses a bit when they are bickering or throwing each other insults, but sometimes it's rather comedic, like watching two peacocks fight in a zoo to who has the best looking feathers. 

"- You toad-looking moron! How dare you say that?!-" 

"- Pourquoi? Pourquoi? You can't even think for yourself Angleterre! You expect the answers to aaall of your problems to come to you on a silver platter.-" Spat France.

"- I never said that! Your posh-butterfly existence distracts me, that's all. I can perfectly sustain myself without any intervention thank you very much.-" Huffed England, but instead of receiving an answer France stood up from his chair as if he were in a scenario on a theatre.

"- Listen up everybody! This man thinks the world is a restaurant! It's ridiculous!-"

_"- Your face is ridiculous!-"_

If Germany could face-palm, he would. The worst days are the ones where France and England argue on a "long meeting" day which means he would have to deal with them until 7PM instead of the usual 2PM. Hello to aspirin when he gets home.

"- **ALRIGHT THAT'S ENOUGH!** This meeting cannot continue like this. Let's all have a ten minute break to cool down and stretch. England and France go on separate ways, if I have to lock you in different rooms I will.-" He announced, and to be honest, most were relieved to have that break. America was starting to get nervous because England and France became the centre of attention for the past two hours, Russia only giggled to himself and enjoyed the show. 

"- No need to lock me up, I will take my break to boil water.-" France said while standing up from his chair. England scoffed.

"- And why would you want to do THAT? To cleanse that preposterous attitude? Because I'm willing to throw boiling water on you until you go back to the hell you came from.-"

France only smiled to himself as America cackled. The Frenchman was planning something. Germany knows when a prank war is about to commence, and the fact that France had no answer to that burn could only mean he's going to boil water for a very specific reason. Because their bodies are very much human, Germany wouldn't be surprised if England had to go home early because of a terrible stomachache or he suddenly fell asleep only for France to take out a sharpy pen and start painting hearts, flowers and stars on his face with permanent marker.

"- Someone got really sissy after sipping cold tea, eh Angleterre? What about I do you a new one?-"

"- I don't want your poison, thanks.-" He replied straight away. The Englishman wasn't stupid, yet he was wary of what could wait for him in the community kitchen so he eyeballed at Germany who got the message straight away. Too add stress on top of disappointment, now Germany was forced to search France _and_ the kitchen the same way a policeman would look for drugs on a thug. England refused to make himself another cup of tea unless he was certain that it would be safe to drink, and that, really pissed him off because tea is the only way to get through very long meetings.

"- France. Come with me. I want to talk with you. Italy, what are you doing?-" Germany acted fast and efficiently, but his attention span was solemnly focused on the Italian that stood up only to open the curtains and fidget with the window handles. As much as he wanted to intimidate France into spitting out what he was planning, he was first and foremost curious for Italy.

"- I'm going to open some windows so the bad energy goes away!-" He replied, quite cheerfully.

 _"Ah. So that means he only wants some fresh air. That will be helpful."_ He thought, and nodded after he sunk that thought in. He believed that's what Italy wanted to do, sometimes Germany wished he had a translator to his every little action. Italy could be very, very unpredictable.

"- Thank you, Italy.-" He replied, formally, and left the room with France strolling by his side. The others soon followed until England alone stayed behind and sighed to himself. What France said to him still stung like a mosquito bite. He can take care for himself! Although In solitude, his anger seemed to simmer because there was no Frenchman on sight to relieve himself with. It felt unnecessary that Germany had to step in and stop whatever France was planning to put in his next cup of tea. England will serve his revenge on a silver platter!

 _"- Let's see his stupid toad face when he realises he's glued to his chair and can't go back to Paris.-"_ England muttered to himself as he grinned with an expression only the devil could have, and he placed a hand forwards, right on top of France's chair that stood across him. A lilac spell glowed under the wooden object, and after he said the magic words, the spell was complete and he gladly walked out of the room to take his well deserved break and...hell...maybe he IS going to make himself a cup of tea.

As England walked towards the community kitchen, humming to himself Queen's hymn, he heard familiar voices come from inside. It was Germany and France.

"- Are you sure you only wanted to swap the sugar for the salt?-" 

"- YES! Now s'il vous plait can you stop searching me?-"

England walked into the kitchen and emptied the kettle just in case, then filled it with clean water straight from the tap, he tried to ignore as best as he could the image of France with his hands on the wall as Germany placed his hands inside his pockets as if he were a security man at the airport. Most of France's belongings rested on the kitchen table too, and they all looked very harmless. England was satisfied with the sight of France being uncomfortable, but he couldn't avoid scoffing when he realised the poor choice of a prank that would be changing the sugar for the salt.

Bold of France to assume he puts any sugar in his tea. 

"- Why don't you search him too, Allemagne?-" Exclaimed France as he retrieved his belongings, angrily huffing. Germany's mouth tensed. He clearly did not wish to continue this searching game, he already felt like the babysitter sometimes but this was going too far. He refused to check England.

"- I just came here to make myself a cup of tea. Leave me the heck alone while we are on break.-" Replied the Englishman to both, and poured himself a fresh, steaming hot cuppa halfway. The other half was filled with cold milk from the fridge.

"- With that attitude you...-" France was already snapping back a comeback when England froze and looked back at him with the most evil, sadistic grin France has only seen on him when he does a magic prank. _"checkmate, frog"_ His eyes said.

"- See you back at the conference room.-" England grinned, and sipped his tea before he left the room, leaving France open-mouthed.

"- What's wrong?-" Asked Germany, but in the same tone a parent would use towards a child that's being a complete drama-queen.

"- That Houdini wannabe is going to ruin my life, Allemagne! He's done something! I can feel it!-"

Germany sighed and mentally face-palmed. He is NOT going to search anything else, he wants to enjoy the last five minutes reminder of his break in peace, thank you very much.

"- Go and check yourself if you are so sure. I need a break.-"

***  
Two minutes for the conference to start. The room is empty and nothing seems to be wrong. France checked under the chairs, under the table, he checked the windows, the board, the chalk... nothing seems out of place.

 _"- That sneaky bastard...-"_ France thought to himself, and kissed his teeth as he grabbed his chair to sit down, but when he placed his hand on it the wood stuck to him.

He magicked the chair so he would be stuck here. A smart move.

By reflex, France unstuck his hand from the wood but the process reaped off his skin a bit and he swore in French, loudly. That would leave a mark, it hurt too, and bled slightly. He's lucky he did not sit or else he would have to go back to Paris in his underpants.

That's it. England took it a step too far this time. France was so angry he felt he had to do one better, and what is worse than having The Motherland angry? America would never be pissed at England, they are brothers. The maximum Germany can do is scold him, but France believes England deserves worse than that.

 _"- Let's see how you feel when Russia realises he's stuck here because of you.-"_ France muttered to himself as he grabbed Russia's chair and pushed his own cursed one to make a swap. He chuckled in french.

With the chairs swapped, the meeting could continue

***  
1:10PM Break time is over and every country walked back in. 

"- Vous êtes-vous blessé?-" Whispered Canada to France upon coming in and realising France had his right hand wrapped in a cotton handkerchief as if it were a bandage, it was slightly sploshed in a reddish pink. Canada's sweet expression so similar to America was concerned and soft. _(Canada said: Did you hurt yourself?)_

"- It's nothing, mon chér.-" Replied France with a kind smile as he covered the bandaged hand with the other, and focused his glare on England that also looked down at the handkerchief. His expression shifted in many ways in less than a second. He went from _"Oh shoot, did I do that? I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you for real, only embarrass you"_ to _"Wait. If you realised my trick that means..."_ and finally dread. _"What did you do?"_

France broke eye contact and waited until Russia came in. His smug smile widened.

England paled. _"-No. He didn't...-"_ He thought to himself.

Yes, yes he did. 

Russia went to sit in his chair, and it EXPLODED upon first contact just before England could open his mouth. Of course the chair broke because Russia's incapability of withstanding English magic, but nobody expected it to act as if it were popcorn and many jumped from their chairs. Broken pieces of wood rested on the floor to the Russian's feet.

Five seconds of silence took over the entire room, all eyes went to England.

"- England...-" Russia said softly with a smile in crescendo, his voice seemed to sing a lullaby. He hated surprises.

"- I...I didn't...It wasn't meant for you I swear! France swapped his chair for yours! It wasn't meant to explode!-" England exclaimed on his defence and pointed at France whose eyes narrowed.

Germany cursed under his breath. 

"- I don't want to stand six hours England. Give me your chair.-" That was an order. Not a question. England stammered.

"- Is that a no?-" Asked Russia. His expression was frozen as much as he. "- You want trouble? You want war? This is how you make war England.-" He said in a thick, cold accent that brought chills to the Englishman's spine. The tea had already cooled, again.

"- You can have mine.-" A small voice interrupted the tension, it cut right through it with childish positivism and pure kindness of heart. 

**"- ITALY!-"** Exclaimed Germany, but he was too late to react. Italy stood up and offered his chair to The Motherland without a second thought.

"- Oh. You give me your chair?-" Russia asked to confirm, still smiling, but because he's always smiling nobody knows if he's proud or relieved or...something else. Something darker.

"- Yes! I can stand.-" Replied Italy, very sure of himself, and stood right in the place where he should be sitting with his back straight and his hands glued to the side. He looked like an adorable toy soldier, all dressed in blue. Russia kicked the pieces of wood out of his way and sat down in Italy's chair. His aura got three times scarier to those present.

All eyes were on England but Germany's, which is a shame because if they had looked at Germany now, they would've all witnessed a very soft and concerned expression in his usually stern face. Very human.

"- I hope you are proud of yourself, Angleterre. Now everybody hates you more than they already do by default.-" Murmured France with an annoyed tone because he wanted to see England standing for six hours, not Italy!

England sank on his seat, he did not say a word for the rest of the meeting. The only movements he made were as robotic as sipping cold tea which tasted bitter because he did not put any sugar. 

The hours went by, the meeting continued but Germany could see Italy's legs quivering and cramping next to him, small whines emerged from the Italian and it was obvious he was more focused on the clock than the actual meeting in itself. Italy is not like him, he's not soldier material, clearly.

After three hours Germany had enough. His heart clenched. He couldn't take it. He doesn't care about image anymore, he doesn't care what will anybody think of him. He had to do this...for Italy.

"- So, If we cut Antartica into pieces and move those pieces with boats all around the globe, we could...-"

Germany stood up from his chair without a word. His eyes were closed, his cheeks were flustering... All eyes went on him.

America chuckled towards the sudden randomness but it was clear he was a bit pissed that he was interrupted half-way into his big plan to fix global warming. 

"- dude. what's up now? You always tell us to raise our hands and not ourselves, if you want your turn wait in line.-"

Germany ignored him, he even ignored England even if he wanted to glare him to death. No. Germany forgot about everybody in the room and looked straight at Italy who still stood, rigid, slightly shaking.

"- Germany? Are you okay?-" 

There is no way that Italy, who was in current pain and discomfort, would care more for him than he does for himself. Germany refused to believe that, yet he did, which is why his heart melted and he broke every rule in the book, in front of everybody, in the middle of a meeting of all places. This was taking a trip out of his comfort zone, but hell, he's so clueless that maybe ITALY is his comfort zone and he has just realised it _now_.

"- Italy, let's swap places. You sit, I stand. Take my chair.-" He pleaded, and tried his best to make it look like an order but his voice quivered and his face looked sunburned. This is the softest he had been by far in front of the entire world.

Italy smiled. Russia stopped smiling.

Too many things happened at once and everybody got the picture but America, the poor guy was absolutely clueless and could not read a room even if it was obvious.

The meeting continued with Germany standing soldier-style for the next four hours instead of three because there were so many interruptions that America took his turn to speak twice and he made it last. Germany's legs started cramping by the end but he did not complain or say a peep, his poker face is the best and he was able to control his fluster soon after Italy sat in his chair and sighed with relief. He stood still, barely moving a muscle. One could tell he was alive because he was breathing but that's that. Germany is the best soldier material.

At 8pm the long meeting ended. Nobody said much to each other. England practically ran away. Italy thanked Germany the same way he always did and they parted ways.

When Germany arrived home that night he had one thing clear on his mind that finally cached up to his cold heart: He _loved_ Italy and he had no regrets.

Oh God. He loved Italy. _He loved Italy._

He would need more than one aspirin to deal with the consequences of that.


	6. I need a raise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the climax where it all goes downhill. This is the only chapter (Oneshot) with a bittersweet ending.
> 
> Italycat and Germanycat make an appearance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst alert!!!
> 
> Tropes: Beer is not a good copying mechanism

It's official now. Germany was 100% sure he loved Italy, and now what? He didn't think he would reach that far so he had nothing planned. The memories from the last meeting still clouded his mind sometimes, he replays the moment he stood up and interrupted the meeting half-way America's speech, the looks he was given, Italy's smile and sigh of relief... He's sure he made a fool of himself, did he make it too obvious? What did the others think of him at that moment? Germany was very, very sure that Russia stopped smiling and nobody knows what that could mean apart from "not good".

If before he was stressed because he didn't know, being sure that he loved Italy was twice as worse in his gut. The feeling sometimes crowded his lungs and messed up with his heartbeat, Italy didn't seem to have changed one bit, he was acting like he always did. Does that mean he didn't feel the same way? 

At today's meeting (thank God it was a short one) everybody seemed to have forgotten what happened the other day but England who bickered a bit less with France that decided to maintain a conversation with Canada in full french, and Russia, who's face sported a shadow every time he and the Englishman's eyes clashed. At least there was an even number of chairs this time. When it was time to leave though, Germany was stopped by a strong hand that gripped his shoulder right when he was walking down the corridor. At first he thought he was imagining footsteps that followed him, which made him walk faster until a hand gripped him and he froze.

"- Hello Deutschland.-" Said a cold, calm voice behind his shoulder. Germany grimaced.

"- Ah, Russia. To what do I owe the pleasure?-" He croaked, still looking forwards. He had not moved an inch. Leaving his back exposed like this was never nice but the feeling was mutual for Russia.

"- A warning is never a pleasure. You should be careful.-" 

Germany's blue eyes shook and he gulped but he would not allow himself to be intimidated.

"- Alright...some context would be nice.-" Replied Germany as calm as he possibly could. Last time there was conflict between them Germany wrote Russia a very catchy song to help him forget what he'd done during the second world war and it actually worked. To write a song was Italy's idea but he never told anyone. He believed it had all been left in the past, right where it should be.

"- Don't act stupid. I saw what is happening between you and Italy and I don't like it.-"

Ah. So It's about Italy. Germany didn't know whether to relax or be angrier.

"- My personal matters should not matter to you. I am aware you are a closed country in that sense but that doesn't mean the others should have your customs enforced. I learned that the hard way...you should do so too.-"

The grip tightened so much that Germany believed Russia could've perfectly dislocated Italy's shoulder if he had gotten to him instead. Luckily for Italy, his kindness and willingness to share gave Russia reasons to warn Germany today.

"- hahaha. no. You don't understand what I'm trying to say, Deutschland.-" 

Germany's lip still quivered every time Russia mentioned his name. He got so close to him that Russia literally whispered his words right in his ear.

_"- I don't care if you are gay or not. What I want to say is that you and Italy are not meant to be. You are too distracted.-"_

With that being said, Russia left go and walked past him, leaving a soreness on his shoulder that it was hard to ignore. Germany glared silently, but despite not wanting any trouble, his body unwillingly spoke out loud all by itself. He couldn't keep the poker face for long.

"- If you try to do something to Italy just because he gave you his chair you will regret it. He's an ally of mine, that's all.-"

Russia froze and looked back to give him a final warning with his iconic neutral smile. His tone was cold like snow itself, as white as his scarf. 

"- You don't understand. I am not doing anything. You are.-"

**5:21 PM (2 hours after the meeting ended and Russia's warning)**

Germany never had his phone on during meetings, sometimes he forgot he even had one until he reached home because he's had more than enough human interaction for one day. Today it was different, he was walking down the street, deep within his thoughts and thinking about the weather that's starting to get colder when he decided to switch on his phone and ask the internet about tips on how to say someone you love them. His cheeks flustered. The moment the screen came to life two unread messages stood before him and Germany froze in the middle of the street.

_Italy: Germany come to my house quickly, I need your help!!! (recieved at 3:20pm)_

_Voicemail: You have two missed call from Japan (4:10pm and 4:12pm)_

The fact that not one, but **two** of his allies tried to get in contact with him and he didn't answer to either of them filled his gut with every kind of dread on earth. Russia came to his mind but he quickly shoved that image away from his head. How irresponsible can he be? He's thinking of his feelings for Italy so much that he's walking on literal clouds! A side of him started scolding himself angrily while the other shook him and told him to run and check if Italy was okay. Of course Germany ran, but first he typed a quick apology to Japan. 

_" I'm on my way. Wait for me."_ He said, and did not mind about the glares he got from his citizens when he started running like his pants were on fire. Germany is very aware how his citizens like to glare, it's a common occurrence so he never takes them personally. What he would _definitely_ take personally is Russia ignoring his warnings and doing something uncalled for.

When Germany arrived to Italy's home, he breathlessly knocked on the door and was welcomed by Japan who sported strange-looking scratches on both of his hands.

"- Ah. Hello Germany-san. I was about to call Greece when you messaged me.-" He said courtly.

"- What happened? Is Italy alright? Why would you call Greece?-" Asked Germany in such a panic that he even forgot to say "hello" first. He was still regaining his breath and looked inside the home to see Italy's whereabouts.

"- Well...there's a cat.-" Replied Japan after a pause. Germany froze. Japan wasn't panicking and he didn't seem to be lying about what he said, his voice alone soothed Germany of any danger but he still wanted to know if Italy was alright.

"- A cat?-" He repeated. Did he come here faster than an ambulance for a cat?

"- Two cats actually.-" Added Japan as he rubbed his scratched hands together, and to make things worse he didn't say anything else. Germany had to come in and assess the situation for himself. At least now he knows where those scratches come from. He was still a bit shaken from Russia's warnings, but that's all it was. A warning. Nothing to worry about.

Japan led Germany to Italy's back garden, where on a tree a cat was shivering on the very top branches, the poor thing was very scared of heights and meowed loudly for help. The cat was small and brown with a curl similar to Italy's, and Italy himself was trying to get him down by motivating him in Italian but it did not work. Italycat was too scared to move.

"- Italycaaat come on! You can do it! Jump on me I will catch you! Don't be scared!-" Italy called as he extended his arms, but Italycat only closed his eyes and shivered more, his nails dug deeper into the wood and his hair spiked. Despite being a cat that could not receive any fall damage he did not want to jump.

"- Oh...what am I going to do now?-" Italy whined to himself.

"- Germany-san arrived.-" Said Japan, and Italy turned to face his two allies with relief on his face. He practically ran towards Germany with the usual panic on his voice.

"- Germany! I'm so glad you are here! I thought you didn't want to come because you ignored my message so I called Japan and then he came but suddenly there were two cats and Japan got scratched and...-" Italy started rambling. Germany had to stop him to allow him to breathe.

"- This is what you needed help with? To get a cat down a tree?-" 

Germany wanted nothing more than scold him for all the trouble and panic he inflicted, but deep down he was so glad Italy was alright that his anger vanished as fast as it came. He should tell him to make his messages less vague next time.

"- Yes.-" Italy whined, and nodded.

Germany walked over to the tree and looked up towards the scared cat, humming to himself. He wasn't a fan of cats, he was more of a dog person so now he understands why Japan was planning to call Greece to come over. If anybody is a professional in cats, that's Greece. 

"- I only see one cat. Where is the other one?-" He asked towards both.

Japan pointed at a black cat with blue eyes that growled as he stared at them all from over a wall. The cat looked slightly familiar to Germany, the similarities with himself were uncanny.

"- It scratched me when I tried to grab Italyneko, it's very overprotective.-" Muttered Japan, and once again rubbed his scratched hands. Germany sighed. "- Good grief...-" He mumbled under his breath. No wonder black cats are the meaning of bad luck. 

He faced the blue-eyed cat, skinny thing it was, and it was filled with stress over the brown cat who meowed the same way Italy himself whines. Despite preferring dogs over cats, Germany softened his voice enough to not sound like himself as he faced the black cat over the wall before attempting anything hasty.

"- Will you hurt me if I try to rescue Italycat? I mean no harm, I promise!-" He said, but the black cat hissed at him with fury and that marked the end of the "good cop" talk. 

"- How do you expect him to get down from there if you don't allow us to save him you dummkopf!!-" He scolded with the usual anger. The back cat hissed again, louder, now baring his fangs and shoving his ears backwards. Italy himself jumpscared as if he were being scolded too.

"- Vee...He's very scared.-" He muttered under his breath, but found Germany puffing up his chest proudly. He already had a plan in mind.

"- Gut! that means it won't dare to scratch me. Now, let's get this over with. Do you have one of those metal..stair steps?-" 

"- You don't want to use a chair?-" Asked Italy with a smile.

"- A chair is unstable.-" Replied Germany.

"- Germany is right.-" Added Japan, and Italy saddened a bit but made it subtle enough for only Germany to notice the difference.

"- Okay. I think I have one but you need to help me look. -"

Germany nodded and they both headed upstairs while Japan waited in the garden, looking over Italycat that meowed as if he were crying. The black blue-eyed cat looked over to Italycat in silence, then back at Japan and went back to rest on top of the wall, waiting. Japan brushed his scratched hands together, they hurt.

"- What's wrong Italy?-" Asked Germany upon realising that the Italian hesitated to open the door. The golden key in his hand shivered.

"- I don't like coming to this room. It has many memories.-" Italy replied without looking back, and opened it without awaiting for response from Germany that inhaled slowly. Italy's voice just quivered, he was sure of it.

Could this room hide the mysteries of Italy?

Apparently not. To Germany's surprise, the room was a regular storage-room with all sorts of canvases covered in white sheets, paints, a guitar, a big sword, many card box boxes labelled "ROMANO", piles and piles of paper, the step-ladder they were looking for...

"- Look, Italy! You don't even to go in if you don't want to. I see it.-" Exclaimed Germany when he saw that Italy looked at the floor, crestfallen and broken. The Italian couldn't even bring himself to raise up his head. What could be here that's hurting him so much? Germany didn't know but he also didn't want to ask. He came here for the step-ladder, he's coming out with that step-ladder. Easy and simple.

"- Thank you, I wait here. Be quick okay?-" Italy mumbled sadly, and waited as Germany placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before stepping in further.

Very careful not to break or touch anything, Germany walked through the dust and clutter until he grabbed the step-ladder that stood by a window at the very end of the room. As he went by, he looked around but saw no clues, most things were covered in white opaque sheets. The step-ladder got itself lodged in between some boxes and Germany had to yank it out, but he's strong so he made it back with no effort. The problem is that, as he walked back with the step-ladder sideways, the right leg got caught in one of the sheets and pulled it as he walked, thus revealing the canvas that was covered.

"- Germany! Don't look!-" Exclaimed Italy in a panic, his cheeks already blushed pink, but it was too late. Germany looked back to put the sheet back in place, but he found himself with a beautifully drawn portrait of....himself?

Germany froze. He wanted to sneeze because all this dust, but the shock kept him still with his mouth open. Blue orbs for eyes, blond hair, his facial features...it was him right? No, that couldn't be. Or could it? Germany was officially confused. 

"- Is that...me? I don't remember ever wearing these clothes.-" He asked aloud, and turned to face Italy that walked inside and bit his lip to make it stop shaking. The fact that Germany recognised himself within the boy was an arrow to Italy's chest, his heart to be exact.

"- That is Holy Roman Empire. We lived together in Austria's house.-" Whispered Italy, and held back a sob because it had been so long he had not said that name aloud that it already felt foreign on his tongue, but on his heart it happened just yesterday. 

The way his eyes glassed, the way he knelt down and grabbed the painting as he held back tears, the way his cheeks flustered... this is it. This was hurting Italy. Germany was sure. But if Holy Roman Empire was the source of all that darkness, why was Italy holding his pains so tenderly? Why stroke the image of the boy on the canvas when Germany stood right there? Too many thoughts travelled through his mind, but what made it all worse was the way Italy looked up at him and stroked his cheek too, as if saying "you are real"

"- You look _so much_ like him Germany...maybe that's why I...I...-"

He started crying, tears rolled down his cheeks. Italy emotionally collapsed right before Germany who was so awestruck he couldn't process the tender motion before Italy just...broke. He clenched the canvas agaisnt his chest and sobbed on the dusty ground, shaking. Germany looked down, he forgot to blink, to breathe...

Germany broke him.

He is hurting Italy. 

Russia was right

He's the source.

That couldn't be. 

But it could, because it happened right before him, he saw it, he saw him. Himself, but at the same time, not himself. Or could it be himself? He doesn't know. 

To avoid collapsing too, Germany sniffed in the dust and walked out with the step-ladder, leaving Italy behind and alone, crying while hugging the old canvas. Germany's eyes felt watery but he blames it on the dust. Yes. That must be it. It's the dust. Why does he feel cold? 

He kept making up excuses until he reached the garden and saw Japan sitting. Italycat meowed and whined loudly, the poor cat was fully crying now.

"- Ah. You found it.-" Exclaimed Japan, but Germany did not answer. He slammed placed the step-ladder against the tree trunk and opened it. He forgot his next step. His chest was hurting. The more he breathed the less air got in.

"- Japan.-" He called, seriously.

"- Yes?-" Asked Japan, slightly concerned, but his expression was always hard to read. Germany's blue eyes were slightly red on the edges and he breathed heavily.

"- Call Greece. He knows about cats more than I do, I'm sure he will do this better.-" 

"- Oh...okay. Are you alright?-"

"- Dust allergy.I have to make an important call. Sorry.-" Is the last thing Germany said before he walked himself out of Italy's home without even looking back. He felt guilt for leaving Italy crying like that, but if he's the source of his pain then it would be better to put distance in between no matter how much it hurts. The black cat looked at him go, his tail wagged from side to side. The more he tried to take the image of Russia away the clearer it got. His words echoed in his mind on loop.

*** 

Austria sipped his tea while staring at the music sheets sitting on the table before him when his phone suddently started ringing. He picked it up.

"- Hello? Oh, hi Germany vhat do you vant?-"

He suddenly froze and gulped, it took him a couple of seconds to answer and even then he cleared his throat beforehand.

"- Holy Roman Empire vas...-" He inhaled and exhaled, slowly. "- He and Italy were very close. One day he had to leave to fight a var and your stupid brother..... hello? Germany?-"

Germany hung up on him in the middle of the most important details and Austria hesitated on whether to call back or leave it be. Did he say too much?

"- Darn it all. He found out.-" He muttered to himself, and placed the phone back in his pocket. He waited for it to ring again, but it didn't.

***

Prussia heard clattering in the kitchen all the way from his room, it was too early for dinner so he walked down the stairs only to see Germany sitting on the couch and surrounded by empty beer bottles. He was drinking another one when Prussia came in.

"- West! It's not Oktoberfest yet! What are you doing here, drinking all alone? You didn't think of inviting your awesome _bruder_ to the party?-" He exclaimed with a smile and sat himself in the couch right next to him. 

Germany slammed the beer bottle on the table, his face already slightly red due to alcohol, and he looked at his brother that froze and murmured a small. "-west?-"

"- Ich habe einen groß Fehler gemacht.-" Germany croaked, his speech was slurred due to the alcohol. _(He said: I made a big mistake)_

If there is one way Prussia knows Germany is being serious, is when he speaks out in full German instead of country language. The surroundings of his eyes were also red, and that couldn't be due to alcohol. Prussia tended up, he had never seen his brother so upset. He was so happy lately, what happened?

"- Is it about Italy?-" He asked after a pause, as serious as he could be.

Germany nodded and drank another gulp. He did not want to mention Russia's name to his brother.

"- Holy Roman Empire.-"

Just seeing Prussia's reaction was enough to tell him what happened to the boy in the canvas, but Prussia, being the awesome brother that he is, had to say the truth aloud for him to hear it.

"- He's...gone,west.-"

"- I know.-" Replied Germany, and grabbed another beer. "- verzeih mir bruder, I want to be alone.-" _(verzeih mir=forgive me)_

Prussia tensed up. He still remembered Holy Roman Empire, North Italy is all he ever talked about despite being suffering from the war, it brought him hope. Then all of a sudden he was gone and Germany appeared as if he were his reincarnation. Holy Roman Empire's last wish was to come back to Italy and be with him forever, that feeling passed on but Italy never moved on. Italy stayed in the past and to this day he still awaits for him without knowing he already has him. Prussia couldn't allow his brother to torture himself like that if he didn't deserve it, he believed it was Italy's incapability to move on that was at fault, besides, he had never seen Germany so depressed. 

"- Er hat dich nicht absichtlich verletzt!-" Exclaimed Prussia with the best German he could muster as he angrily grabbed the beer away from his brother's hands. _(Prussia said: He didn't mean to hurt you!)_

Germany froze and blinked. So if it's not his fault, or Italy's...then why is he feeling this way? This hurt and pain that consumes him...is it Italy's? Is it his? Are they sharing it? What causes it? How can it be fixed?

"- If we are going to drink we drink together, West. So you better start talking and don't take anything back because I will get myself so drunk I will forget everything you say by tomorrow. I got some things to tell you about him too.-" Prussia took a big gulp before his brother's glassy eyes. 

Germany sighed slightly in relief, and as he did, a ghost of a smile appeared on his alcohol-painted face. 

Hours later, when night fell, both brothers ended up drunk-sleeping on the couch surrounded by empty beer bottles. Germany nuzzled himself in his brother's shoulder as he shifted in his sleep while Prussia snored loudly with a big, goofy smile on his face. A single streak of tears rolled down Germany's pale face. It's shame it wasn't meant to be. 

He really, _really_ loved Italy. 

Italy also cried to himself that night but instead of going to Germany's house he hummed himself a song, alone, in his room. Romano decided to spend the night at Spain's house watching telenovelas _(spanish drama series)_ so the house was empty.   
That night, as strange as it sounds, Italy realised he wanted to be more with Germany than with Holy Roman Empire, but after what happened today he was afraid Germany would not want to be with him anymore so he cried for the loss of Germany too.


	7. Flu season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The great finale!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tropes: Love confessions, first kiss and a poor attempt of hurt/comfort

Weeks had passed since that day and things had not been quite the same since. Germany was stuck in a limbo, so per say, but at least now he didn't have Russia after him, the largest one of all remained happy when he saw them hardly talking to one another for the next meetings. Germany flustered a bit less, and the weather became colder and colder as if Russia's shadow had taken all over every other warm feeling that remained deep within.

Germany didn't mention the incident to Italy and surrounded himself with emotional barriers to make a clear distance between him and Italy. Italy didn't mention it either and carried on being his aloof self, but a bit more clingy and needy. Japan is the only one who was secretly fuming about it because he and Greece had to deal with the aftermath of finding Italy alone crying in the spare room after rescuing Italycat. For being such close allies, the three countries seemed to be tearing apart piece by piece due to poor communication. Japan just wished the two would make up and make amends already but none of the techniques he tried actually worked. One day he tried hiding Italy's umbrella out of sight so he and Germany would be forced to share one, but it seems Italy does not mind walking under the rain when he's depressed. Germany also made it difficult to contact with. _"- What do you mean talk things out? We don't need to talk about anything.-"_ He said, and decided to spend his days training outside. 

His third and last attempt consisted of tying a red wool string that connected their pinky fingers and he prayed for whatever Japanese deity to unite them through the many hardships. Italy was fine with it but Germany freaked-out halfway because he said that the ritual reminded him of one of England's magic spells and he's not very God-believer to begin with. He pleaded Japan to stay out of this and he did, reluctantly so. That is until winter arrived, and with winter came in a breeze old cold air from Antarctica that cooled the entire world to something similar to an ice age. Some think that is because America seemed to have a vendetta with it (he really suggested cutting it into chunks and spreading it everywhere), others take it as karma. Needless to say, global warming wasn't the talking topic through those meetings, but rather the opposite.

"- Alright everyone! Who has any idea how how to warm up the planet so we all don't freeze to death?-" Exclaimed America as he looked to the other countries sitting in their chairs silently, most were shivering no matter how many layers of clothing they wore, the cold really took away the need for bickering and the usual tomfoolery. The only noises that filled the silence of the room were teeth chattering and England sipping boiling tea loudly.

"- You can all be a part of me. I'm never cold.-" Said Russia with a smile that increased the chills in the room. He wore the usual attire and seemed very comfortable looking at the rest suffer, well... maybe not everybody because two chairs were empty apart from America's.

"- Idea dismissed!-" Exclaimed America without thinking it twice. "- Nobody else? Come on dudes, give me something! Japan?-"

The American turned around to look at Japan and Canada resting under a kotatsu farther away in the room. _(A kotatsu is a low, wooden table frame covered by a futon, or heavy blanket, upon which a table top sits. Underneath is a heat source, formerly a charcoal brazier but now electric, often built into the table itself.)_

"- I'm not here.-" Murmured Japan. The blond resting beside him sighed in relief and muttered to himself "-So warm.-" Under his breath, a white bear also rested alongside him.

"- Hey dude, don't you always have something to say?-" Asked America when he pointed at Germany who flinched upon becoming the centre of attention. He was wearing a winter jacket, gloves, a scarf...and he had not said a word since he came in which was strange. His cheeks had this fluster on them that wasn't hard to miss against his pale skin.

He cleared his throat and stood up but he didn't puff out his chest like he always did. 

_"- We should stop these meetings until the cold becomes more bearable.* **cough** *-"_

That idea was the best one yet, if everybody agreed more than one should have a smile growing in their face by now but mostly were shocked by the way his voice sounded like a crow instead of a human, he whispered instead of speaking out like he usually did, that cough at the end did not make it any better either. No wonder he was so quiet.

"- Holy crap Germany, that...is NOT A BAD IDEA!! Who agrees to stay home until spring?! We all deserve a break right?-" America called out, once again taking all the spotlight and credit. Concern for Germany was forgotten by all but one. Italy couldn't un-glue his glassy eyes from him as he sat back down with a huff, clearly feverish.

"- Of course, why the heck not. The less I see your toad-face the better.-" Huffed England as he stared right at France sitting across him, covered head to toe in wool attire like a sheep.

"- I h-hope y-your siblings bully you t-to death!-" Replied France, his teeth chattered but fury kept him burning like a flame.

"- Then I hope you choke on a snail!-" 

"- S-snails taste better t-than any of your food!-"

Germany excused himself out without a word right there and then, he didn't have the voice or the energy to deal with those two any longer, he's had enough during the last prank-war. Italy practically ran after him without missing a beat. Japan watched them and sighed, he thought he could make an anime out of this but soon discharged the idea.

"-Germany! Wait!-" He called out, and stopped the larger country right after he took a step outside. The cold breeze of air forced him to shiver. Being devoid of voice wasn't ideal, but Italy could practically hear his thoughts when he looked back at him. He was thinking why the heck was Italy running after him when at the time he also ran away from him. 

"- If we aren't going to see one other until spring I wanted to say a proper goodbye. Can I still come to visit you?-" Italy pleaded, and pointed at his own cheeks. 

Germany got the message perfectly, if his cheeks weren't already flustered enough, now they practically reddened so much that if Spain was here he would call him a tomato. Not only that, but he was very conscious he was feeling a bit under the weather, but because he hated to admit it he bent down to Italy's height and closed his eyes. Italy took that as a yes.

Instead of an European style kiss in both cheeks, Italy gave Germany a long kiss on the forehead before he left without uttering a word because he literally couldn't, his throat felt like sandpaper every time he swallowed and it stabbed him if he tried to speak or cough. His heart nearly drummed out of his chest, he had to double check Russia wasn't watching and he had the boy on the canvas right on his mind too. Whenever he looked at the mirror he saw him. Holy Roman Empire.

It made him sick.

Italy watched him go with a concerned expression on his face. His face was too hot, like fever hot, and he looked more serious than usual. After everything Germany has done for him, Italy internally refused to let him go like that, he didn't want to be alone either.

He wouldn't loose him. Not again.

***

Italy knocked on the door to Germany's house and heard loud footsteps before it creaked open. Prussia stood at the other side, his entire right arm was bandaged and on a sling.

"- Heya North! What brings you here?-" 

"- I...-" Before Italy could answer, Prussia shivered and grabbed him by the coat with his only available arm before he pulled him inside. "- Come in quick, all the warmth is escaping!-" He exclaimed, and closed the door with a slam. The home was very warm and smelled like dinner.

"- I came to visit.-" Said Italy as he took out his coat and shoes at the entrance. "- What happened? Did you fall?-"

"- Me? Fall? I'm too awesome to fall.-" He replied proudly, but by then, Germany who was in the kitchen heard everything and stepped out only to glare at his brother while clearing his throat loudly, he held a wooden spoon in his hand. He could not speak but he could express himself well without words.

 _"I'm too tired and sick to be angry but I will probably hit you with this spoon if you lie to Italy"_ Is what he said. Honesty always goes first for Germany it seems.

"- I slipped on an ice puddle and broke my arm.-" Prussia confessed in a low voice as he slightly pouted in shame, and upon seeing the concern grow on Italy's face he hesitated and went back to his gleaming self. "- But I will be fine! Not being a country has it's pros and cons. One of the cons is that I don't heal as fast as you, and one of the pros is that I'm more awesome! Makes sense?-"

Italy nodded with pity glassing his eyes. No, it didn't make any sense. Prussia should be glad to still be alive, breaking an arm is not funny business, if he had hit his head not even Italy knows if he would've woken up.

"- Besides, my bruder West is doing everything for me so I get better faster! Isn't he the best?-" Prussia proudly pointed at Germany that waved the compliment away with a huff and walked back to the kitchen. He looked flushed instead of flustered, Italy could tell that taking care of everything was taking a toll on him so he felt glad he came to help out. 

Italy softened at the fact that Germany still cares for others more than himself even while sick. It's admirable to say the least and could only smile in agreement. _"-Yes, Germany is the best. He deserves an apology for what happened last time. I can be such an idiot sometimes.-"_ Thought Italy, but kept that feeling to himself as he walked to the kitchen and the first thing he did was take the cooking spoon out of Germany's hands. Despite cooking while sick, the kitchen was pristine.

Germany, not expecting the sudden gesture, croaked something Italy did not understand but he shushed when Italy grabbed his hands and placed in his palms a bottle of flu medicine he bought in a pharmacy on the way here. If he still had not said a word and looked this bad, that could only mean he had not taken anything yet and Italy was a professional at dealing with difficult people _(cough Romano cough)_. To not worry his brother, Italy guesses that Germany must've told Prussia he had a simple sore throat while hiding everything else because with an arm broken Prussia can't do as much. Classic.

Italy had to no choice but to give him the truth it to him straight, the same way he barks his orders during meetings but in a more affectionate way.

"- I came here to help so bought this for you. The lady in the counter said it's good for the throat and takes away the cough! I hope you like the orange flavoured...vee...-"

To say that Germany was speechless is probably an understatement, he had to palpate the cool medicine bottle in his hands to double-check if it was real, if this was really happening or had the fever got him delirious already. Why would he fever-dream about Italy?

He nodded by pure instinct. He didn't dislike orange.

"- Lucky! There were so many flavours I didn't know which one you liked the most. What are you cooking?-" Asked Italy as he took a peek behind him and stared at the bubbling pot. "- Ooh chicken soup! It smells nice!-" He exclaimed. Just by looking at it, he knew it was a simple and classic chicken soup, nothing too fancy.

"- I will take care of it, don't worry! I will bring you and your brother a bowl each after it's done okay? You can both wait for me upstairs, there's not much to clean.-"

Germany was so awestruck he stood with his mouth slightly agape until Prussia interrupted the conversation.

"- Really? That's awesome!-"

He practically pulled Germany out of the kitchen and whispered _"- You never told me you hired a maid.-"_ with a playful grin on his face. Germany flinched and grumbled something incoherent but was interrupted by very own cough that he couldn't bring himself to stop, his brother had to put his only available arm under his shoulder and half-carry him to his room.

***

When Italy brought two bowls of soup upstairs in a tray he went to Prussia's room first but it was empty so he walked over to Germany's room and knocked on the door. Talking could be heard from inside but it stopped when Italy knocked.

"- Come in!-" He heard Prussia call from the other side, the door was slightly ajar. When he came in he saw Germany resting on the bed with the covers up to his shoulders and a cold compress on his forehead while his brother sat on a chair right next to him. The medicine sat in the small bedside table and by the look of things, it had already been opened and used. The smell of orange lingered in the air. A small and mysterious wooden box sat next to the medicine bottle.

"- Awesome, North! That was fast.-" Prussia exclaimed with a smile as Italy walked in with the two bowls of soup like professional waiter, the spoons were already sitting inside. Germany stood up in a flash, where the hell did Italy find an apron? He looked...slightly like a girl. Adorable to say the last. For being the first time he saw Italy wearing an apron, he felt a slight deja-vu from the sight.

"- Vee...You can call me Italy if my brother isn't near.-" Italy replied, courtly.

Prussia grabbed his bowl with one hand and stood up, he got ready to leave. "- Okay Italy! Thanks for helping West do dinner, I'll leave you two to it.-" He shot one last glance and smile at his brother and left. Whatever both brothers spoke about before Italy came in brought a more prominent fluster to Germany's already feverish face.

Italy sat down in the chair where Prussia once sat. "- This one is for you.-" He said while handing him the only remaining bowl. The heat felt nice on his hands, and if you add to that the cool relieving effect from the medicine Germany had to admit he was feeling better already. Pros of being a country. "- Thank you.-" Germany croaked in response, traces of his old voice came up to the surface and Italy smiled even brighter. 

"- You are not whispering anymore! I can understand you better!-"

That pure smile was so contagious that Germany couldn't avoid to give it back before he started eating. As he ate spoonful after spoonful he realised this soup tasted much more different than usual, and that is strange because he always uses the same old recipes. Italy watched him eat with a sweet smile on his face, he fidgeted with the apron from time to time.

"- Did you add anything else? It's delicious.-"

Italy chuckled with glee, praise is always welcome."- I know some tricks to make good chicken soup, grandpa Rome taught me! Also when I lived in Austria's house he fell sick in winter a lot...-"

Not another word was said until the bowl was empty. Germany seemed to be enjoying himself but he had something on his mind, that's sure, and whatever it was Italy was running away from it. "- Would you like more?-" He asked as he got up from the chair, but Germany stopped him by grabbing him by the apron. 

"- No...erm...Listen, Italy. There's one thing I need to tell you.-"

Italy sat back down, slowly, he felt a strange deja-vu from this that he didn't like, it took a lot of effort to ignore the dread that climbed up his chest. Germany silently grabbed the small mysterious box that sat next to the bottle of medicine and placed it on Italy's knees covered by the long, white apron.

"- My bruder saved this...thing. It's the only memento left of _him_ and I wanted you to have it. He wanted to give it back to you but France decided that would be too much for you to bear so he told you to forget instead. Whatever this was, it's broken.-"

With shaky hands, Italy slowly opened the tiny box and in it there was indeed a small cylindrical piece of wood the size of his index finger. It was clearly old and broken, but very well preserved.This used to be a push broom. His push broom, the one he gave to Holy Roman Empire before he left so he wouldn't forget him.

Breath was taken away from Italy's lungs as he felt the piece of wood in his palms, his eyes glassed with tears. He started shaking.

"-I'm sorry about everything.-" Mumbled Germany, and cleared his sore throat once again. God it hurt to speak, and breath, but like hell he's going to allow this to carry on for any longer. Italy should've received this memento years ago! He doesn't want to hurt him any longer. He wants Italy to move on, and he finally found the piece that was missing. Prussia had it all along.

In the end, all the mysteries of Italy could fit inside a small box. 

"- W-why do you give it back? It was...I gave it to you! Or no... wait...not you...I...-" Italy was confused and the fact that he was crying didn't help, whenever he saw Germany he saw _him_ too. He stammered and couldn't even bring himself to give eye-contact to Germany, he still had to swallow the fact that he was holding the last piece of his old push broom. If he's giving it back now what does it mean? He's rejecting him? He's never coming back, Italy knows that, but isn't this taking it a step too far?

Germany inhaled. _"-I will use the fever as an excuse for what I'm about to say next.-"_ He thought, because he'll be dammed if he didn't use this opportunity to confess how he really felt and say it was delirium if he got rejected.

"- because I...I like you t-the most in this world.-"

Italy froze for a second time, tears stopped rolling down his cheeks. He looked at Germany who's face was so red he could already tell his fever had gone up, but so did his hopes. This is the closest that Germany has been to saying "I love you".

"- Really?-" Asked Italy, just to confirm he's heard it right the third time because the second time it wasn't Germany who said something like that to him.

"- Really, I'm not lying. -" Replied Germany. The deja-vu became too overwhelming now, Italy was wearing a white apron too, coincidence? Destiny? Italy was too happy to care.

"-I also liked you since the first moment we met!-" 

"- You were hiding in a box of tomatos and begged me not to kill you.-" Explained Germany with a ghost of a smile, but Italy stood up from his chair. He couldn't contain himself sitting.

"- Vee, but not scared anymore! I like you now! And because you gave me my push-broom back to me, I have something I need to return you too.-"

 _"-A push-broom? Why a push-broom?-"_ Germany wondered, but didn't say it aloud. Instead he asked: "- Oh? What is...?-"

He was interrupted mid-sentence when Italy bent down to his level and gave him a tender kiss on the lips. Germany expected a present but that was much, much better. Germany has no idea how much it lasted, he believes his soul left his body until Italy took a step back with a new set of tears rolling down his face, but this time they were happy tears. Italy was broken, but he was whole now. Germany realised there and then that he's not the one who was hurting him all along, but he's the only one who could fix him. 

"- I _loove_ you!-" He exclaimed.

Ah. So that's what it means. After so, so many years, the war is already over and they finally found each other to never to be parted again. Ever. Now Germany understood it, he felt the butterflies and he could finally see the source. He felt it. For a moment, he felt himself in a different body, in a different place with different clothes...yes...that's what Italy's kiss felt like. Like he found a reason to love. Maybe he will thank Japan after this because his pinky finger started tingling. 

"- I love you too.-" He replied without missing a beat, and he meant it. For real. He's not abandoning Italy anytime soon. Not again.

Outside in the dark, Prussia sat in the corridor with his ear against the door, his closed left fist shook with contained emotion and he had to bite his lip to avoid screaming as if he were in a football stadium when his bruder just scored a goal. The empty bowl of soup sat beside him. Prussia nearly cried of happiness because Holy Roman Empire's final wish just became true and he lived to witness it, maybe he was kept alive for this purpose, to give the memento back to Italy. After so long they found each other again, not in the same circumstances or in the same place...but who cares about that?

About time.


End file.
